


Catwalk

by f_femslash



Category: Dark Knight Rises (2012), Devil Wears Prada (2006)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-06
Updated: 2012-12-06
Packaged: 2017-11-20 10:54:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/584616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/f_femslash/pseuds/f_femslash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: Can you do a Mirandy fic with Catwoman instead of Andy? I guess, for instance, Miranda stays late at the office going over jewelry samples and Catwoman comes in to steal them but blah blah blah they have crazy hot sex in the office? Possibly? Because this would make my life complete. Bless you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Catwalk

The windows were dark against the stark white of Miranda’s office as the woman herself sat at her desk, handling approximately a million dollars of priceless jewels. Samples from Harry Winston’s new line were scattered across the surface of her desk, each on its own square of black velvet. Miranda returned a diamond choker to its place, pausing to scrawl some notes on a notepad. She had taken to dismissing her assistants and staying at the Elias-Clarke offices much later since the divorce, preferring the quiet there to the noisy twins at home.  
She was just about to pick up a pair of earrings when she heard a peculiar sound. At first, she dismissed it for window washers squeegee-ing the huge floor-to-ceiling windows behind her, before she realized midnight was an odd hour for window washing. Suddenly, there was a loud crack and a pop, and a flurry of feet landing on the carpet behind her. Miranda turned quickly to see a woman in an absolutely ridiculous black spandex ensemble with extremely intriguing heeled boots and… “Are those cat ears?” she heard the question leave her lips before she could stop herself, her disdain for those ears momentarily coloring her judgment.  
The young woman smirked and sauntered over to Miranda’s desk, her hips swinging to either side. Miranda only managed to tear her eyes away when she realized that the brown eyes behind the mask weren’t staring at her, but ogling the diamonds on her desk. Miranda reached for her office phone to call security, and gasped when the brunette in front of her lashed out at lightning speed to rip the phone cord out of the wall.  
“Yeah, you don’t want to do that,” she smirked, eyeing Miranda with sudden interest. “Actually…” she grinned slyly, “I have a better idea.”  
Pulling the cord free of the phone, she crossed around the desk and straddled Miranda’s lap, pushing her hands behind the back of the chair. Miranda, much to her dismay, let out a strangled whimper at the feeling of the spandex-clad body pressed against hers. She was so distracted it took her a long moment to realize the phone cord was being wrapped tightly around her wrists.  
“Excuse me, is this tragic spandex ensemble cutting off the supply of blood to your brain? Do you even know who I am?” As she struggled to free her hands, Miranda felt her chest rub against the woman’s breasts and an extremely undignified groan freed itself from her throat. The woman smirked.  
“Don’t pretend you don’t love the catsuit, Miranda.” She emphasized the name, raising an eyebrow behind her mask. “Do you even know who I am?” She trailed her fingers along the exposed line of Miranda’s collarbone, making her breath catch.  
“I…may have heard some things…” she managed as she watched the brunette bite down on her full bottom lip. She was scanning the surface of the desk, and Miranda was sure she was about to reach for the jewelry when her hands closed around a pair of scissors. Miranda stiffened, her stomach tightening.  
“You could fetch far more money for me, alive, as a hostage, than you could for the jewelry or my body, so I suggest you consider that before you do anything rash,” Miranda said, her voice cool despite her racing pulse. The brunette got to her feet and turned back to Miranda with a smirk.  
“Too bad, I’m far more interested in your body,” she licked her lips and brought the scissors to Miranda’s chest. Miranda closed her eyes, expecting to feel pain but instead hearing the scissors snip, followed by a loud ripping. She gasped and opened her eyes as her blouse fell away from her. She was on the verge of verbally lamenting the loss of her new de la Renta when she caught the lustful expression on the woman’s face. Her complaint died on her tongue as the woman reached forward again and cut through the center of her bra, leaving her rosy and erect nipples exposed to the cool air of the office. Miranda felt a rush of arousal pool between her legs as she watched the young woman take in the sight of her half naked form.  
The woman put the scissors down and straddled Miranda’s lap again, palming her breasts roughly. Miranda felt her hips grinding into her lap and groaned again. She struggled against her restraints, desperate to bring their lips together. The brunette brought her mouth tantalizingly close to Miranda’s, only to pull away with a sly smirk before finally crashing their lips together. Miranda’s mind buzzed as she heard the woman moan against her mouth.  
She felt fingertips traveling slowly down her torso and her breath hitched as they neared the waistband of her skirt, teasing her sensitive skin until they finally slid underneath and between her legs, cupping the soaked silk of her panties. The woman groaned at the feeling and threw her head back, her hips moving against Miranda, who moved her own against the hand between her legs.  
“You want me to fuck you, don’t you?” the brunette husked as they ground against each other. Miranda let her head fall back wordlessly, all thought processes having ceased as her blood pounded in her ears.  
“Tell me,” the woman growled, curling her fingers against Miranda through her panties, drawing a strangled cry out of her, “Tell me how bad you want it.”  
Miranda’s eyes fluttered open to fix on the woman’s full lips, “Please…” she moaned, the degradation of the plea barely registering as the woman flexed her fingers against her again.  
“Please what?” she growled mercilessly, pulling her fingers away from Miranda’s soaked pussy.  
“Fuck me!” Miranda finally cried desperately, her hips bucking in an attempt to keep the contact between herself and those wicked fingers. The brunette grinned and pushed Miranda’s panties to the side, immediately thrusting two fingers inside her. Miranda cried out, the telephone cord digging into her wrists as she moved against the hand. She was eternally grateful that the offices were empty as she felt a thumb begin sliding against her swollen clit, making her scream in a way she hadn’t, possibly ever.  
The brunette slipped a third finger inside Miranda and curled them against her, sending her over the edge. She shuddered violently, her cries filling the office as she came undone. The woman slowed her pace and gently withdrew her fingers. Miranda opened her eyes to see her smirking at her, and her mouth fell open as the woman sucked her fingers into her mouth, licking them clean with an appreciative groan.  
Miranda felt the acute loss of the weight and warmth of the brunette’s body and she rose to her feet again, this time turning and scooping the jewelry into a pouch, which she tucked into her belt. Miranda felt panic rise in her throat as the woman turned back toward the window.  
“Wait,” she croaked, still shaky, “Please don’t…I can’t be found in this position, please,” she finished, a blush creeping onto her face. The woman paused, looking back, and Miranda was surprised to see a glimmer of sympathy in her eyes. She crossed back to Miranda and leaned down, kissing her passionately before reaching behind her and freeing her wrists.  
Miranda immediately reached up and pushed the mask off of the woman’s face, gasping.  
“Selina,” she breathed as the face of her former assistant was revealed. Selina smirked as she crossed back to the window and climbed out onto the ledge.  
“Good luck, Miranda,” she said before grabbing onto the repel lines she’d left outside the window and disappearing into the night.


End file.
